Disclaimer:
I don't own Veronica Mars. I've actually never owned
Veronica Mars. I will never-oh wait…I might pull a Michael Jackson
one day, when I'm rich and just buy the rights. THAT'S how much I
love this show.

He
is dead. He is dead and she is numb, unable to process it. Rain
sluices down from the sky, and she shudders, pulling the drenched
ends of her sweatshirt closer together. It is a futile attempt to
stay warm.

"Veronica,
we need to go. Now." His voice is barely a whisper, but harder than
she's ever heard it-and if she could feel anything, she's sure
she'd be scared for him- worried for his well being. As it is, she
can barely function. She's surprised that she's made it this far
without retching. There was so much blood. She stops for a moment-the
grotesque memory of it making it too hard for her to continue, then
leans against the glass of the front door, slinking down to the
ground, her head in her hands. "Veronica." She's shaking as she
looks up at him, her tears mingling with the ice-cold rain. As she
stands, droplets of water tinged with blood fall from the edges of
her jacket. He doesn't miss the irony of it, and he's never been
so scared in his life. She stumbles as they make their way to the
car, tripping as she falls to the ground. When she doesn't get up
again, the panic sets in. "C'mon, V. Get up. It's only a few
more feet to the car." He's whispering soothing words and
endearments, but they fall on deaf ears. A vacant stare has taken up
residence in her eyes, and without warning he scoops her into his
arms. With her head burrowed in his chest, she finally breaks, her
sobs shaking them both, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck.
He fumbles a bit as they reach the car, but he refuses to set her
down. Propping the passenger side door open with his shoulder, he
settles her in, smoothing her down and cupping her face with his
palm. A noise from the distance shakes him from his reverie and in an
instant he's in the car, backing out of the driveway, pulling away
from the shattered normalcy of their past. For all intents and
purposes, they were never there. "Where do you want to go?" He
asks after a few minutes, his voice breaking the silence. She turns
to glance at him, almost surprised that he's no longer speaking in
a whisper. For the moment they're out of danger.

"I
don't…" Her voice is small and rusty, as if she's unused to
using it. Surprised that she still can. "I don't know."
Her eyes are filling with tears again, there are hundreds of unspoken
questions in their depths and he reaches across the console, gripping
her fingers lightly with his. "Shouldn't we-shouldn't we tell
someone?" She asks softly, when a few minutes later they pull into
the car park of her apartment complex. He shrugs slowly, and as she
really looks at him for the first time in hours, she notices how
haggard he looks-how scared. "Everything will be Okay,
Logan. I promise." She whispers, unsure whether he can hear her,
unsure if her words mean anything to him, even.

"Will
it?" The sun has started to rise, spurts of pink streaking the sky,
and neither has spoken in what feels like hours. He cuts her off
before she can speak again, a cynical edge coloring his voice.
"Because I have to say, the suicide of Neptune's First Son ranks
pretty high up there in things that won't allow the world to ever
be Okay again." Sighing, he ducks his head, leaning his brow
against the cool plastic of the steering wheel, rubbing at his face
with his hands. After a few moments he glances over at her, grimacing
at the shell-shocked look on her face. "God, V, I'm sorry. I'm
so sorry." Suddenly she's in his arms, sobbing the loss of
Duncan's life into his chest. "You shouldn't have had to see
that."

"Because
you should have?" He pulls away slightly, looking down into her
eyes, tracing the contours of her face with his fingers. She places
the lightest of kisses against his lips, but he loses himself in her,
afraid that if he stops kissing her he won't be able to survive.
"It isn't your fault." She murmurs gently against his lips, and
his grip on her tightens once before he lets go.

"Veronica,
he was my best friend. I shouldn't have pushed him so hard. We
shouldn't have-"

"We
shouldn't have what? Told him that we knew? Asked him to get help?
We didn't scream-we didn't yell, God, we didn't even accuse
him, Logan. And he killed Lilly. He killed her." She's
crying again now, making little hiccupping noises as she rests her
head in her shaking hands.

"He
shouldn't have died, Veronica." His tone is flat, his eyes empty.
She nods once, sitting back and leaning her head against the seat.

"You're
right, he shouldn't have. And maybe we should've handled it
differently, but we didn't know he had a gun, Logan." Sighing,
she pushes open her door, breathing deeply. "C'mon. Let's try
and get some sleep. We need it." He's wordless as he follows her
out of the car, gripping her hand tightly as if he's afraid that
she'll disappear too.

"Oh
God, honey is that you? Thank God." She can hear Keith's voice
from inside the apartment as she turns back to face him, a wan smile
touching her lips.

"Ready
to deal with the fallout?" She whispers. He only tightens his
fingers in response.

A/N:
You hate me. I know you do. But I don't care. This is what they
call a wrap. I didn't want to kill Duncan. Really, I didn't.
I actually really really like Teddy Dunn, but it needed to be done.
And don't get me wrong, I loved this story, but unlike my other
one:ahem:ahem: The Other Woman (which I think you should
all go read, haha), I didn't want to over saturate it. The answers
to the pivotal questions are answered, and Logan and Veronica are
together. I'm happy with it. I hope you are too.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.